


Not Quite Midnight

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-25
Updated: 2005-09-25
Packaged: 2018-10-27 08:05:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10805124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Hermione rings in the New Year in the most unexpected way.





	Not Quite Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

The party at the Ministry official's mansion was in full swing. It was festive and full of laughter and flirtation--wizards and witches who were either drunk or clearly on the path to intoxication.

Hermione had arrived with Ginny and Harry, both of whom had almost immediately disappeared and left her to mingle alone. She couldn't help but feel a tad bitter as she finished her first glass of champagne.

New Year's Eve was one tradition Hermione just didn't understand. It was supposed to be filled with nostalgia, reflection and resolution...the one time of year to throw the past behind you as you start anew with a fresh outlook on your life.

Hermione thought it all to be extremely pointless.

Perhaps it was because she had long been jaded to the thinking that the New Year would bring some happiness. How could it when at the stroke of midnight for the past two years, Hermione had to watch the potential love of her life kiss some tart without so much even a glance in her own direction?

This year, she feared, would be no different.

She had been tempted to use a pile of Ginny's hair goo to tame her wild mane and perhaps sneak away to the loo to add a bit of color to her face...she had even considered a red dress with a plunging neckline instead of her traditional dress robes to remind Ron that she had breasts...but then it had all seemed so very foolish. She would be no better than one of his many tarts--except maybe he would actually remember her name in the morning.

Now Hermione sighed into her second glass, listening half-heartedly to Martin Peabody discuss the Ministry's new regulations on magical trade with Asia. Any other time, she may have found him to be interesting, but tonight all she could comprehend was boring drizzle about cauldrons and broomsticks.

Meanwhile, across the crowded room filled with floating streamers and confetti, Ron stood next to a petite blonde who was holding onto his hand like it was her lifeline. Hermione knew the woman...had seen her several times at the Ministry. According to Harry, she worked with the Committee of Experimental Charms, which made Hermione all the more uneasy. There were no scathing insults she could think of against the poor woman this time...she was beautiful and smart. The whole bloody package.

Ron must have felt her eyes on him because his head lifted and searched the crowd. His blue gaze locked with hers for a split second before Hermione turned her full attention back to Martin. She laughed loudly, taking Martin by surprise as he paused mid-sentence and glanced down at her hand that was sliding against his arm.

"Did I say something funny?" He asked, suddenly appearing extremely self conscious.

"Er, well--" How on earth could trading fees be amusing? "No...it's just, I really enjoy your company." Her smile was sparkling as she gazed up at Martin with enthusiasm and interest. "Your job just fascinates me."

"Ah. Well, it is a challenging department," Martin replied, puffing out his terribly thin chest.

Hermione glanced Ron's direction when Martin began to ramble on once more and found he was no longer watching her, but talking with his date. His hand was resting loosely on the small of her back, his fingers stroking.

Feeling ill, Hermione glowered into her champagne. Is this was she was reduced too? Trying to make Ron, who never showed any romantic interest in her at all, jealous? She was Hermione Granger for Merlin's sake! Smart, independent witch who would sooner than later have her own seat on the Council of Magical Law. She didn't need a man in her life.

And here she was--resorting to giggling like a Patil twin and leading on this boring putz.

With a snort of self disgust, Hermione turned and placed her champagne glass on the tray of a passing waiter.

"I'm sorry, I have to use the loo, excuse me," Hermione said shortly, brushing past a flustered Martin and heading for the hallway out of the spacious party room. Turning the opposite direction of the loos, Hermione walked into the foyer and grabbed her cloak from the massive pile hanging along the wall.

She clasped it around her tightly and pulled out her wand and Apparated home. When she was inside her own flat, she flicked her wand to start a fire in the stone hearth as the wind and snow howled outside. Lighting only a few candles, Hermione pulled off her cloak and shook the excess snow from the wool before hanging it up to dry. Her dress robes followed quickly, leaving her in her white blouse and blue skirt.

Her head felt light, her body weary. Another year was to begin in mere minutes and here she was, alone and full of self-pity.

But honestly, it was better this way, she told herself as she curled up on her small couch and watched the flames dance in the fireplace. It was better to be alone than to suffer through watching Ron stick his tongue down that woman's throat...and have several unwelcome tongues down her own.

Maybe she would just take a hot bath and crawl into bed and stay there until the New Year was over.

The pounding at her front door had her snapping her head up from the arm of the couch and her heart racing madly inside of her chest. Who would possibly be on her doorstep at ten minutes until midnight on New Year's Eve?

Swallowing, Hermione stood and grabbed her wand from the coffee table before she walked slowly to the oak door. The pounding started again and she poised her wand before opening her front door. Her surprise was evident when Ron pushed his way into her flat, using his heel to shut the door behind him.

He shivered, shooting her a quick glare as he pulled the scarf from around his neck.

"Took you bloody long enough."

"What are you doing here?" She asked, her eyes lifting the snow that was caught in his damp hair and eyelashes.

Ron jerked off his cloak and tossed it into the back of the nearest chair. "I was just wondering just what the hell you're doing."

"Excuse me?"

"It's minutes until midnight and you just disappear."

"I wanted to come home," Hermione said hotly as she turned on her heel and walked back into her lounge where the fire was warm and crackling. "The party was dreadfully boring."

"Maybe you shouldn't confine yourself to one of the most pompous, boring wankers in attendance then."

Pleased that his tone was ripe with irritation, Hermione lifted her chin. "Martin happens to be very brilliant and interesting."

"So brilliant and interesting that you spent the entire evening with him staring at me."

Hermione sputtered, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment that he would be so bold to call her on it.

"You're mad, Ron."

Ron raised and eyebrow while his lips curved. "Am I?"

"Yes!"

"Then why were you trying to make me jealous by flirting with him?"

"I was not flirting," Hermione said through clenched teeth. "And I have absolutely no reason to try and illicit jealousy from you, of all people. Besides, you were much too busy groping your tart of the month to notice even if I were."

She clamped her mouth shut tightly and stared at him, knowing full well if she didn't stop talking now, she would end up losing worse than she already did. Ron was the only one to empty all the logic and calm from her mind and draw forth the passion and heat. It was infuriating.

"It doesn't matter who I'm groping," Ron said quietly, taking a step towards her. "I always notice you, Hermione."

She swallowed the dry lump in her throat as she tried to analyze what it was he meant. She didn't have time to think for very long because he was suddenly standing in front of her, his blue eyes seemingly darker and more intense than she had ever seen them before. Hermione felt her body heat, almost uncomfortably as he studied her face, contemplating.

"Why did you come here?" Hermione whispered, sucking in a sharp breath when Ron lifted his hands to cup her face.

"Because you needed someone to kiss at midnight," Ron replied, his voice husky as he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was soft and lazy, causing the fire to burst between her legs and the ache, unfulfilled for so many years, grew more painful.

Wanting to whimper when he pulled away, Hermione opened her eyes to look up at him. He was studying her, his hands still cupping her face.

"What was that for?" She asked quietly, still savoring the taste of him in her mouth.

"I told you," Ron said, sliding the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip slowly. "You needed a kiss at midnight."

"But it's not midnight yet," Hermione pointed out softly. Her eyes felt heavy at the stroking of his thumb from her lips to her jaw, but she kept her gaze fixated on his, hypnotized by the desire she saw simmering in his eyes.

Ron raised an eyebrow at her before glancing at the wooden clock perched on her fire place mantle. "You're right...I was a few seconds ahead of myself..."

Almost instantly the clock began to chime in the new year and Ron turned back to her, a small grin on his face. "I reckon I'll have to kiss you again."

"I suppose you will..." Hermione murmured, her words trailing off as Ron slid his lips over hers again. It was just as wonderful as the first time, and feeling slightly more bold, Hermione parted her lips, welcoming his probing tongue into her mouth. He tasted of whiskey and she wondered why it was she used to lecture him on drinking when the taste was so intoxicating.

Tiny ripples of excitement flowed through her when she heard the faint moan in the back of his throat. She had thought he would pull away, now that the clock had fallen silent, but instead he pulled her more tightly against him, his palms spread over her lower back as her head fell back with the force of his kisses. She explored the contours of his mouth as her hands thrust into his hair. The locks were silky as they fell through her fingers, and still damp from the snow.

When his lips fell to her neck, Hermione tilted her head back and tried desperately to breathe. Her hands were suddenly pulling at the buttons of his shirt, drawing a low moan from his lips when her hands sneaked inside the thin material to touch him. His chest was hard under her palms, but the thin layer of hair just as soft as the hair on his head. She threaded her fingers through it before sliding them up to his broad shoulders where she pushed the material off.

She had already memorized every muscle of his torso long ago, when he would walk around the Burrow shirtless in the summer time. And now she was finally fulfilling her desire to touch the tiny scars and ridges of his chest. Her heart was thumping loudly in her ears as her eyes lowered the thin trail of ginger hair disappearing under the waistband of his black trousers. Her breath was shallow when he slipped a finger up her chin and lifted her head to look at him.

Their gazes locked before Ron slipped his hands under the hem of her blouse and pulled it up. She lifted her arms to help him and found herself blushing when he let it fall to the floor, his eyes raking over her body. His lips were parted, his own breathing ragged when he looked at her again.

Suddenly he was kissing her again, his lips demanding as his fingers slipped under the straps of her bra and lowered them down her arms. In two quick movements, the lacy material fell to the ground to join the mounting pile of clothing.

Her breasts were crushed against his chest, her fingers digging his shoulders as she gasped and moaned under his lips. His teeth nipped at the flesh of her bottom lip as his hands fumbled with the zipper of her skirt. The loud sound of it being pulled down had her suddenly realizing they were undressing each other in a mad frenzy of lust. She scolded herself for being to hasty, even as her skirt fell to pool around her ankles and her own hands pushed against his chest, giving her enough room to fall between their bodies to his belt and quickly pull it apart and away from his trousers.

"This is too fast," Hermione managed as Ron moved her head to the side so his tongue could slide over her earlobe. He growled a response in her ear while her hands continued to work at his trousers. The button had been popped open, the zipper tugged down. Her hands slipped around his waist as she pushed the trousers past his hips.

They were now standing in her lounge, she clad only in her knickers, and he in his boxers. Sweet Merlin, what was she doing? Could she really do this? It was Ron, her co-worker...her best mate since she was eleven...

The potential love of her life.

Ron lifted her against him, causing her to lock her ankles around his waist as their mouths melded in a sweaty kiss. His hands were cupping her bottom, squeezing in the most delightful way. Then he was falling to his knees and lowering her to the carpeted floor, their lips never breaking the contact they both so desperately craved.

She had wanted Ron for years, and now he was touching her, groping her, whispering to her in ways she never thought possible. He clouded her mind with his mouth and used his hands to distract her from logically thinking about the situation. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen between them. Or any lovers for that matter...there was the first phase where you would get to know them better...but she already knew Ron better than anyone else, save Harry, didn't she?

Oh, sweet Merlin, his hands...they were everywhere, causing her to tremble violently as they left a path of heat in their wake.

Then there were supposed to be a few chaste kisses...although he had kissed her on the cheek after she had been made Head Girl during their seventh year at Hogwarts. Did that count?

His mouth was latched onto her breast, causing Hermione to arch quickly and moan. She grasped his hair once more, releasing a sharp breath when his tongue slid over the taut nipple. His fingers had worked themselves inside of her knickers before pulling them down her legs.

Surely two people never just fell into making love without discussing it first. There could be consequences...

As if reading her mind, Ron whispered a contraceptive charm before leveraging himself above her and studying her face. His cheeks were flushed, the freckles darker than usual. His hair was tousled, sticking out in the most adorable of ways. Her thoughts slipped from her mind as he gave her a small smile. He had rid himself of his boxers and was now watching her thoughtfully.

"I want this," he said simply, "but only if you want it too."

Hermione felt the worries drift away as she lifted her arms around his neck and pulled him down until his lips hovered above hers.

"I've wanted this for years," Hermione whispered. "I've wanted you for years."

Ron released a quick breath and she felt him adjust himself between her thighs, and when her mouth welcomed his tongue, he slipped inside of her slowly, fully.

Hermione gasped, trying to comprehend the feeling of him filling her so perfectly. When he began to move, she countered his thrusts, amazed at how fluidly their bodies moved together. It was natural, right...she knew he had been made for her, and her only.

Her nails were digging into the flesh of his back, her ankles sliding up high on his waist as Ron plunged deeper. His eyes were closed, the light from the fire dancing off his hair and face. Hermione wanted to watch him until he came undone, but the pleasure building inside of her had her eyes falling shut as she moaned quietly.

His hips were pressing against her own tightly, his body rubbing against the most sensitive spot between her thighs with each thrust. Hermione moved her hands down his damp back to his hips as she gasped. Her toes curled as the sharp sensations burst between her legs and surged throughout the rest of her body.

Hermione was throbbing around him, pulsating with her release as his name tumbled from her lips loudly. She could hear Ron's own groans mixing with the sounds of their bodies sliding together frantically, both slick with sweat and sex. He was moving erratically now, his thrusts more forceful as he whispered her name. His muscles rippled and bunched under her hands before he tensed above her and released something close to a growl.

At last he went still, falling down to rest on his elbows above her as he gasped for breath. His eyes were still shut, his face sheened with sweat. Hermione couldn't hold back the smile that formed when she lifted her hands to wipe the hair away from his brow.

It was then he opened his dark blue eyes and looked at her. He shifted and found her lips with his own, the demanding roughness gone, replaced now by a surprising tenderness. She savored it, wondering if it were irrational to want to always be kissing him. Without realizing it, she pouted when he moved off of her, summoning the folded blanket from her cough and fanning it out over their naked bodies. When he rolled to his side and balanced his head on his palm, she suddenly felt self conscious under his gaze.

What on earth did she say now?

"So...what about your...girlfriend?" It was a foolish question, not the first thing she normally would think to ask after enjoying a bout of lovemaking with him, but it was out of her mouth before she could stop it and her cheeks colored fiercely when Ron grinned with slight amusement.

"She wasn't my girlfriend, she was my date."

"Well, what about your date? Surely she couldn't have been happy that you abandoned her on New Year's Eve," Hermione replied shortly as she plucked at the threads of the blanket.

Ron cupped her cheek and waited until she looked up at him. His eyes were serious now, the smile gone. Her heart skipped impatiently as she watched him, waiting...wondering. They had crossed that line between friends and lovers. Was she any different from the others? Would he tell her it was a fun "shag" between best mates? Or maybe...

"I left her there because I realized the only person I wanted to share tonight with was you." He brushed a stray curl from her forehead. "I had every intention of ending the year with you, I thought it was only right that I start it with you as well."

If she hadn't been in love with him before, there would have been nothing to break her fall from doing it now. She felt relief flow through her when he leaned down and kissed her, causing her body to grow itchy with want once more. She pulled him closer to her as she deepened the kiss, shifting her leg until it was intertwined with his.

There were no more questions she needed to ask. She only hoped they could ring in the New Year every year in the same manner as this one.

It was right...fated. It was Ron. Her best mate...the love of her life.


End file.
